From Our World
by Scarlet-Magenta
Summary: How it all began...
1. Default Chapter

The moment the doors opened, a filter of people came strolling in. It was to be a big turnout, he knew, but he never expected this many people so soon. He sat, looking quite lonely (yet to the naked eye unnoticeable), in the furthest corner of the room; the perfect place to see everything. Guests arrived in large groups, and very quickly; and soon the room was filled.   
  
Earlier that evening, the room had been completely empty, and he liked it that way. There was no sound but that of his own fingers tapping lightly on the arm of his chair. There were overly lavish decorations and more then overdone table settings. The curtains over the windows were very heavy and dark; they helped to darken both the room and the mood. There were obscure paintings hung at hundreds of different angles on every wall. The only light was in the candles and oddly placed lamps, each with a coloured bulb; again adding to the macabre atmosphere. The only brightness in the room was the shine of the chairs and freshly cleaned silver that was placed along with the dinner settings at each table. The carpet was a rich, dark red colour, which seemed to draw you in, and the walls were of the same genre of colour.   
  
The tables themselves had seven chairs to each. In the middle of each table was an obscure piece of artwork or sculpture that served as a centerpiece. Each chair was completely silver except for the seat and a section of the back, which was upholstered in the same decadent colour as the carpet and walls. In front of each chair on the table was simply a single plate, a wine glass, a couple utensils, and a name card.   
  
If you brought your eyes to the ceiling you would find that the room was extremely high. It domed slightly at the top and looked as though it was dark-stained glass, when in fact it was made of a much harder material (almost like rock), as was the whole building. Seven chandeliers hung from various points and they remained unlit until the guests arrived.   
  
When the guests began to take their places, slowly the lighting became a little brighter as, one by one, the chandeliers were illuminated. But the light was still dim, the way he liked it. If only the noise would stop...  
  
It was an hour before the affair would begin, but the room was already filled with private discussions, excitement, and a sense of jealousy and ruthless competition. It was tonight that the announcement was to be made, the "winners," if you will, were to be announced; and everyone was anticipating the outcome. Everyone was rooting for someone, and it was always someone different. You could talk to a hundred people, and each would tell you something different and have a novel's worth of an explanation to back up their opinion.   
  
It was the competition that he didn't like. Or maybe it was the fact that the 'competition' was staged. He knew who was going to go, and if any of the others had any kind of brain they would too. But they shielded themselves in the delusion and possibility that their husband or brother or whomever could be chosen instead. Didn't any of them expect the outcome? Were they all that desperate to have to cling to an obvious scam?   
  
She had told him that it was for the best; that the people needed something to cling to. That it was actually a public service to give them a false sense of a chance. But he knew she was just making excuses for her own misguided schemes. She did it all the time, and he should be used to it by now. After all, he really should be grateful after all she had done for him. But he couldn't help but think that there was something she was holding back - but that's only because she always was. There was always an ulterior motive to everything she did. But who was he to challenge? Not until there was some sort of proof. But how could he get proof of something when he had no idea what he was trying to prove? It was a never-ending battle that constantly went on within himself, and if you looked deep enough into his eyes you could see the conflict, the pain.   
  
There was one up side to all of this. Since it was fixed, he knew that he would be going along as well. Maybe he'd be able to prove himself, and upon his return he would be able to have some form of a life. He was going to make the best of the situation as much as he may have opposed the unfairness and deception. This was his chance; probably his last and only one, and he could not fail, no matter what...  



	2. Chapter 2

A rather large man dressed horribly with his hair flying all over the place (it was definitely a hair piece; real hair doesn't separate from the top of your head when a breeze comes by) entered the room to make an announcement:  
  
"Will everyone please take your places at the appropriate tables? The night's events will begin shortly. The servers are coming around now with some drinks. Please, indulge; and enjoy."   
  
About ten minutes later the room went completely black except for the candles. A door at the end of the room opened as the expected party arrived and took their seats on the slightly elevated section of the room. The dead silence was broken as a wave of applause came from the tense audience. The lights slowly came back to their normal brightness and the applause died down as the Queen herself stood to speak. He cringed at her sight, just at the mere wretchedness and evil that she brought to his mind; he truly hated her.  
  
She was dressed in her most vain, self-indulgent, and decadent attire. There were several gasps from the audience as she appeared and the light shown in just a way that they could capture her best side. Not possibly a purposely-placed lamp of course... She wore shoes that were the blackness found only in the depths of deep space. You could truly have gotten lost in their mesmerizing colour. As he traveled up her silhouette her legs were wrapped in the most twisted and devilish black stockings; those which looked as though they must have been built around her legs. Their warped existence was a true reflection of her own personality. Her evening gown was anything but conservative; although it really isn't deserving of the title "gown" since most gowns are more then thin cloth shaped to fit every crevice, as was this garb. It shimmered in the candlelight and the colour shown as an extraordinary silver, and was only topped by the incredible jewel that hung from her neck on a chain. Now the Queen herself held no modesty as far as her lusciousness, but her figure was not what most would consider... perfect. She not only indulged in eroticism but also everything else. She was, sufficed to say, a glutton, and her figure showed this. So the lighting was key to make this form fitting, napkin of a dress into something absolutely gorgeous; and the lighting was oh so perfect. Even those who usually mocked her couldn't help but gasp at her appearance this evening. It was probably her striking make-up that drew the most attention. Her lips, seemingly liquid velvet, were ablaze with a demonic fire and she had the most fathomless black eyes. Both features drenched you in pure darkness; evil. Her face was a pure white, frighteningly white, and was accented only by the colour that was so captivating in her eyes and mouth. She stood teasing the crowd who were most eagerly awaiting her words. Even he was getting impatient...  
  
He looked around quickly at the people in the room. All of them were dressed in the most perfect outfits for the occasion. Most of the women were wearing a new line of corset's and the most decadent fishnets you'd ever seen. Their garter belts, however, made the outfit; the colours all rich and made of the finest fabric. And their shoes were certainly a nice touch. Most of them wearing high stilettos matching he colour of their corset.   
  
One thing he couldn't understand was how earthlings could put so much merit in how the women looked. The men were always the scene-stealers here. Most of the more high-class men wore a cape over their sensual and form-fitting corsets. The fishnet stockings they wore clung to their thighs and made their deliciously sexy legs even more pronounced. Their shoes were very similar to those the women wore, but always sparkled and accented in a contrasting colour. The very rich members of the crowd had on a 'modest' pearl necklace, which topped off the extravagant outfit. Both men and women alike had on thick, lavish make-up; their faces done mostly in white, with accents of colour on their cheeks, blood-red lipstick and dark colour around their eyes. It truly was the picture of perfection. How he would miss the sight of these truly delicious people; no matter how flawed they can be.  
  
That's when his sister came in to sit next to him. She was late, as usual, but the most beautiful creature that ever walked. All those gorgeous men didn't hold a candle to her. The sexiest legs there were ever so complimented by her fishnet stockings. The red garter belt that she wore only when she was... excited to see him. And the sheer silky wrap around that barely covered her skimpy underwear; black underwear of course. And that hair, that simply alluring, captivating hair. Red as fire and full as her lips. Her lips. Inviting and perfect, begging for his to meet them. She turned to him and smiled with those velvety red lips; that devilish smile that spelled mischief and malevolence.   
  
She could tell that he was distracted, nervous almost, so she placed her elegant hand accented by her sinfully red nail polish on his thigh and squeezed slightly in reassurance. He shivered blissfully at her touch and gave her a wink.   
  
"Don't worry Riff Raff, darling," she whispered in his ear seductively, "once we get away from here we can prove ourselves. After we've returned we can build a life; maybe one day have a family. Then we won't have to worry about..." She shuddered at her next words, "her highness." She said that last word with a cold, hateful tone.   
  
"Magenta!" A harsh voice came from their table companion to Magenta's left. "Shush! The Royal Furter Herself is about to speak!" Magenta cringed at the respect in her acquaintance's voice. She was even more bitter about the Queen then her brother. She knew that there was something Ms. "Royal" Furter was hiding. She had been holding Riff and Magenta in captivity as her son's slaves... er... servants ever since she could remember. They were always told that their parents were killed in some horrible accident when they were young. The Queen had sent one of her servants to the orphanage (not that it even deserved that title...) to get some 'playmates' for her son. Magenta and Riff Raff were the two strongest looking children (so you can imagine what the other's must have looked like). And ever since then they have been pushed around by everyone in that twisted palace.   
  
"Good evening... my glamour-filled and frivolous Transylvanians. Tonight is in fact, a very special night. As you all know, seven years ago we embarked on a mission; searching galaxy after galaxy to find life. Our initial attempts proved useless, as each planet was desolate; deserted; no life; no blood. But then it happened; and to think we were going to give up. Earth ... a planet of true innocence... Disgusting!" She paused a moment to scan the room for reactions and impressions. She shot a wicked glance toward Riff Raff and Magenta, and then turned away to speak again. The two siblings sneered and felt comfort only in each other's eyes and touch. "So many had proved a waste, and now this. What earthlings are living is not life. We knew we'd have to convert them all - tease them; make them long for decadence; beg for all we had to offer; grow with ever-burning need. And so, a decision had to be made. But who was that undeniably desirable? I, myself, cannot leave, my job here is... too important, so we had to choose someone almost just as sinful; someone who could create a sizzling flame down in the depths of someone's soul with a single glance. These last seven months have been torturous, desperately searching amongst you all for the perfect candidate. We had looked far and wide, never coming across that one picture of perfection that we now have found, and so close to home. So, without any further anticipation, I present to you, our newly appointed, General Frank-N-Furter!"   
  
At that moment everyone in the room cringed at the announcement but slowly began clapping. A stern look from the Queen made the audience (reluctantly) erupt in a mass of ovation. Out from the back of the room came the most gorgeous creature to ever step foot... except Magenta of course. Frank stood, with a light shining on him, and held a transparent smile. He held a pride in him that was undeniable - and it didn't even bother him that the only reason he was appointed was because of the extreme nepotism. Soon, the Queen let loose the grasp of her sneer, the audience and the applause let down and Frank remained at center stage. A slight uncomfortable look came to his face - obviously something was wrong. There was suddenly a burst of whispers amongst the crowd. Frank looked slowly behind his shoulder and kept up the fakest smile, trying desperately to contain the discomfort. Suddenly a short servant ran out, almost unnoticeably, from a back door, did something with the microphone and scurried away again. Frank's face went back to it's usual cocky, confident smirk and he made it known that he was ready to speak. The audience concluded their whispering with a disappointment none of them would admit. It would have made everyone's day if something had happened to embarrass him. Riff stared at them all feeling such resentment. It's amazing how they were drooling over the royal family for the last half of year, and the second they hear what they should have known to be true at the beginning, they become angered and hypocritical. It never fails, they love to complain unless loyalty may get them something; then they're "true" patriots.  
  



End file.
